Bittersweet
by dark-hearted rose
Summary: Oneshot. My take on what occurs after 'The Music of the Night'. ErikMmeGiry. 2004 movie.


**Hello. I'm currently obsessed with writing PotO one-shots, so bear with me. I'll get back to the other stuff soon, I promise.**

**Anyway, this is a slightly depressing one-shot from Madame Giry's point-of-view… this is my take on what occurs after "The Music of the Night", inspired by stefanie bean's work. go check it out, man. she writes some amazing stuff.**

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"Erik!" I call out to him, despairing, feeling the water creeping slowly up my legs as I continue to move forward.

"You know better than to come here," he says, his voice hushed and laced with distaste. He looks over his shoulder quickly. "What is it that you want?"

_Truthfully?_ I think, his irritation cutting like a knife deep inside me. I approach him where he stands on the shore, the white leather material of his mask gleaming in the unexpected light of the candles. "Where is she?"

His expression softens for a moment. "She is sleeping."

My first instinct for the young girl's safety abated, my mind wanders to deeper, more personal things. "Is that all?" he asks, his hard manner swiftly returning as he glances at me.

I suddenly find it hard to breathe. "No," I say quietly, shaking my head. "I want to talk."

"Talk?" He raises an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Yes. Like before."

He sighs. "We're no longer children, you know."

"I realize that. But I fail to see what difference that makes."

He turns his back to me, and I take it as a silent invitation to proceed. I fall into step with him, all at once hesitant and confident, joyous and fearful. I watch as he stops before a small wooden table, a miniature of the stage many floors above us complete with delicate wax figurines set upon it. Picking up one of the small figures, he gazes at it, sighs heavily, then gently replaces it. "Forgive me," he says suddenly, traversing the few steps back to me and lifting my hand to his lips. "I've forgotten my manners."

I smile, my emotions guarded, yet sensation running rampant through me. Releasing my hand, he presents a chair from nearby and indicates politely for me to sit. I comply, keeping my eyes downcast, lest they betray my fierce inward struggle for self-control to him. But, dear God, how I wanted to divulge everything to him, then and there!

At first, nothing is said. I feel his eyes on me, searching, questioning my obviously strange behavior. Feeling the need to say something, I begin: "What happened to us, Erik?"

"What do you mean?" he asks, puzzled.

"We used to spend so much time together, down here and elsewhere…but then you went on your travels, and now here we are."

"Even the best of friends drift apart," he says gently.

I feel tears welling up in my eyes. Friends? Is that all he saw me as? But of course he did… I think bitterly of the young girl now obliviously occupying his bed. _His love lies elsewhere…_ "I wish it weren't so," I choke out, tears now running unchecked down my face.

He looks at me, pity showing in his expression and in his brilliant eyes. "Please, don't cry."

"Oh, Erik, I'm sorry," I say shakily, wiping at my tears, recalling how much the sight of them hurt him. "I didn't mean…"

"It's all right," he says.

_If only you knew,_ I think. _If only I could tell you…then everything would be all right._ "What happens now?"

He sighs, looking over his shoulder in the direction I knew to be his bedroom. "I'm not sure… I wish I knew, but…" He shakes his head, clearing his throat. "I don't think you should return here. I mean no offense, but your presence…might shatter any plans."

I feel my _heart_ shattering as he says this. "Might I still write?"

"Of course," he says. "You know where to leave the letters."

I nod slowly. "Will you write back?" I ask, unable to stop myself.

He looks at me, his eyes reading into God-knows-what part of my very soul. "I shall try," he replies.

I stand now, unable to bear much more of this strain building up inside me. "Thank you, Erik. And, no matter what happens…I wish nothing but the best for you." _Even if you are unable to see that what's truly best for you is now standing two feet in front of you._

He nods, then, after a pause, embraces me hesitantly. I shiver slightly as I feel his arms around me, realizing with a start that he and I had never in all our years done this before.

He backs away after only a few blissful moments. "You should go."

I nod, heartbrokenly turning from him and beginning to make my way back into the disenchanted world above his small haven, my tears falling fast at the thought that, besides that first embrace, I could never have him again.


End file.
